


The Roaring Game

by twincy



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twincy/pseuds/twincy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ask me another curling question and I will impale you on one of Isaac’s awards.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roaring Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [insunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insunshine/gifts).



“Did you know the average age of the Danish national curling team is 22?”

“I didn’t know that,” Casey says. “Do you want to know why I didn’t know that?”

“Because it’s the Danish national curling team and you don’t care?”

“Exactly.”

Dan leans back in his chair, chewing his pencil. “At 27, the skip is the oldest member of the team,” he reads off the sheet.

“The Danish national curling team.”

“Yes.”

“What’s a skip?”

“I dunno. I think it might be the brooms they use.”

Casey swivels his chair around to raise his eyebrows at Dan. “The oldest member of the Danish national curling team is a _broom_?”

“Take it up with Jeremy, he wrote this.”

“Oh, I will. I will take it up with Jeremy, and then I will take it up with Dana, and then if I have some left in me I will take it up with Isaac, and possibly Amnesty International.”

Casey is, on the whole, pretty much aware that he’s overreacting. It’s just that he’s been stuck in his office for what feels like several years, listening to Dan rattle off curling facts like it’s an actual legitimate sport they should definitely be spending more time covering.

“We don’t _have_ to do this.”

“Hey, Dan? Remember when you went to get us some food and you _couldn’t open the door_ because we’re _snowed in_?”

“I know, I’m just saying, we don’t have to write the curling feature. We could do something else.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, we have the whole of the internet at our disposal - and if, god forbid, the internet should fail us,” Dan clutches his chest in mock despair, “I’m sure there must be a Scrabble board around here somewhere.”

Casey groans. “That’s it. I’m breaking into Isaac’s office to look for liquor.”

“Or we could do that,” Dan agrees. “If you’re afraid of having your ass kicked and damaging your reputation as an anal-retentive grammar freak.”

“I am not playing Scrabble with you,” says Casey. He switches off his monitor and gets up, hoping to god that Isaac’s office isn’t actually locked, because one of the many advantages of being raised upper middle class is never having to learn how to pick a lock. Dan probably knows how to pick a lock. That’s just the kind of scoundrel he is.

“You know what, you’re a scoundrel,” says Casey.

“’Scoundrel’ won’t get you very far. You really want to go for the words that have Qs and Xs.”

Dan follows Casey out the door, snatching Jeremy’s curling primer off his desk in an act of what Casey can only assume is sheer sadism. “You know, quixotic...”

If Casey could just get into Isaac’s office and close the door before Dan has a chance to follow.

“Quixotic...” Dan repeats. “Um.”

“Equinox.”

“It was on the tip of my tongue.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm for Scrabble and curling alike, but I really need a drink. If I have to kick down Isaac’s door to get one, so be it.”

Dan stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “You haven’t been missing meetings, have you?” he says, with an earnest face.

“Dan. Shut up.”

Casey reaches Isaac’s office door just as Dan says, “Okay, here’s a game. Name the top three curling nations in the world.”

“Qatar,” says Casey, sending a quiet prayer up to the gods of liquor and being snowed in and attempted breaking into bosses’ offices. He twists the doorknob.

“Oddly, no, though that would be a good Scrabble word.”

The door opens without so much as a creak. “Thank god.” Casey beelines for the bottle of cognac on Isaac’s sideboard. “Actually, no, it wouldn’t be.”

“What?” says Dan.

“Qatar is a popular name, it isn’t allowed in Scrabble.” Casey pours out two drinks and hands one of them to Dan.

“I’d allow it. Just this once, because I’m a good friend.”

“That’s heartwarming, Danny. It truly is.”

Dan flops into Isaac’s chair and puts his feet up on the desk, dangling his drink between thumb and forefinger. “Canada, Norway, and Scotland, by the way.” He coughs around a too-large swallow of cognac. “They’re the highest-ranked curling nations. Hey, Case?”

“Ask me another curling question and I will impale you on one of Isaac’s awards.”

“Hey, Case?” Dan repeats.

Casey succumbs. “Yes, Dan?”

“Do you remember what happened last time we were alone in a room together and drank too much?”

Dan stares hard at his sheet of paper.

“I do, although not in great detail,” says Casey. The part where Dan shoved him into a kitchen cabinet and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe is pretty firmly imprinted on his memory, even if the rest of the evening is a bit of a blur.

“Right.”

Casey walks over to the desk, casual as anything, and tips another finger of cognac into Dan’s glass.

“Casey?” Dan asks, looking up from where he’s tilted back in Isaac’s chair like he belongs there.

“Danny.”

“Do you want to go somewhere and make out?” Dan says. He smiles brightly.

“If I say yes, will you shut up about curling?”

“You could make me,” Dan leers.

“Not in here,” says Casey, knocking back his cognac, managing not to cough. Breaking into Isaac’s office to drink his liquor is crossing a line – breaking into Isaac’s office to mess around with Dan is a whole new level of inappropriate.

Dan rises from Isaac’s chair. “There’s a couch in our office,” he says, rounding the desk and moving into Casey’s space. “Will that do?” He places his hands on Casey’s shoulders and nudges him backwards until his back collides with the door. So much for the couch in their office.

“Always with the shoving,” Casey murmurs. By then Dan is leaning his whole body into him, effectively pinning Casey in place. Dan ducks his head to nip at Casey’s neck. “What is it with you and the shoving?” Casey manages. He’s pretty sure Dan’s trying to give him a hickey, but he’s not really in any position to protest.

“Dunno,” Dan breathes against his neck. “I’m a fan of full-contact sports, I guess.”

“Like curling.” Casey leans in to kiss Dan.

“And Scrabble,” Dan says against his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> All curling information alluded to is factually correct. YOU'RE WELCOME. (Incidentally, so is most of the Scrabble stuff, though 'scoundrel' would probably be a pretty good Scrabble word depending on where you put it on the board.)


End file.
